


Incomprehensible

by owlaholic68



Series: D&D AU [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Canon-Typical Violence, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Feeblemind, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Mind Manipulation, POV Multiple, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-26 04:06:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14992382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlaholic68/pseuds/owlaholic68
Summary: This rogue Warlock may be more dangerous than Carla’s party had anticipated. When a spell goes awry, it’ll be up to her, Lenny, Goris, and Marcus to help each other recover.Or, how one spell can make this fight can go very wrong in many different ways.





	1. Setup

**Author's Note:**

> Feeblemind: 8th level enchantment
> 
> You blast the mind of a creature that you can see within range, attempting to shatter its intellect and personality. On a failed save, the creature's Intelligence and Charisma scores become 1. The creature can't cast spells, activate magic items, understand language, or communicate in any intelligible way. The creature can, however, identify its friends, follow them, and even protect them.   
> At the end of every 30 days, the creature can repeat its saving throw against this spell. If it succeeds on its saving throw, the spell ends. The spell can also be ended by Greater Restoration, heal or wish.

Warlocks apparently love to hang out in caves. This one is no exception. Dusty tomes and piles of questionable arcane materials litter every surface. The stone floor is firm under Carla’s feet, and there’s enough light from the entrance for her to be able to see. That doesn’t make this battle any easier.

Their quest: Track down the warlock terrorizing the nearby town of Redding, and take him down. The miners had never mentioned how powerful of a spell-caster he was.

“Goris,” she hisses, raising her shield in time to block a bolt of arcane electricity. “Do you have a clear shot?”

“Possibly.” He rolls, tucking his tail in to roll behind a desk. Carla had asked him why he had a tail when no other Dragonborn did, but all she got was a vague explanation of a family-related mutation and a blessing from Bahamut. “I will try.” A massive spiritual dragon’s claw made of pure light bludgeons the Warlock, who curses and rolls to his feet.

Marcus takes the opening and rushes in with his greataxe, shrugging off a beam of crackling energy that glances off his tough orc skin. He roars and swings, catching the Warlock in the shoulder. But he’s blasted and thrown against the wall, his greataxe skidding across the floor.

As Marcus pulls himself to his feet and the rest of them try to formulate a plan, there’s a lull in the fighting.

“What an odd group,” the Warlock remarks in a reedy voice, waving a hand over his wounded shoulder, the flesh knitting itself back together. “Once I get rid of you, human, I can make a fortune off such oddities. Orc fangs are worth something in these parts, and Steel Dragonscales would set me up for life, even if they’re only from a Dragonborn.” His grin turns sinister as he peeks around Carla’s shoulder. “And you, there…the strangest of them all. Something to be studied, picked apart until I find out what could make an abomination like you so Good.”

Lenny presses closer to Carla, clutching his lyre to his chest. Carla raises her shield and braces herself. She glances to Goris, then Marcus, and nods. The time for talking is over. They need to end this.

“You’ll not lay a hand on him,” she snarls, and raises her spear in her other hand. She murmurs a prayer to Chauntea to imbue her weapon with divine power, then raises her arm. Lenny quietly hums a tune that steadies her arm, and she knows that her attack will hit.

Goris gives her an opportunity. He swings his crossbow off his scaly shoulder and fires a bolt at the Warlock, who sneers and waves it away. As it is, he doesn’t see Carla’s spear until it hits his stomach. He reels and coughs, wiry hands clutching the shaft of the weapon. Seeing his enemy downed, Marcus fully recovers and charges.

The stark acceptance of death is clear in the warlock’s eyes. He raises his wand and, with malice in his eyes, aims a spell at Carla. A dark bolt of energy burns through the air in her direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spells used:  
> Warlock: Eldritch Blast (the electric bolts)  
> Goris: Spiritual Weapon  
> Carla: Divine Smite (technically not a spell, but a Paladin ability)  
> Lenny: Enhance Ability


	2. Lenny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greater Restoration: 5th level abjuration  
> Bard, Cleric, Druid
> 
> You imbue a creature you touch with positive energy to undo a debilitating effect.

Lenny shouts a warning and pushes Carla to the side, taking the spell in the chest.

“No!” Carla screams, throwing aside her shield to catch Lenny as he staggers. “Len, are you okay?” He doesn’t answer, coughing once before steadying himself. He looks up at her with blank eyes. She falters. Something is wrong. “Len?”

He doesn’t answer. His pale colorless eyes look even blanker, and Carla shivers despite herself. It’s been a long time since she’s been frightened by Lenny’s Undead appearance, but something about the emptiness in his eyes is unnerving.

“What’s wrong with him?” Marcus asks, abandoning his attack to attend to this new problem. “He looks stunned.” He reaches out and shakes Lenny’s shoulder. “Hey. Len.”

Lenny looks up at Marcus, but says nothing.

“He’s not stunned.” Goris sounds as worried as Carla feels. His tail is flicking from side to side. “He just moved, and he’s reacting to our voices.” Case in point, Lenny turns towards Goris as he speaks, but he shows no sign of recognition.

“Len, answer me, do something, talk, please,” Carla pleads, putting her hands on Lenny’s slim shoulders and shaking him. “Snap out of it, Len! You’re scaring me!” When he doesn’t respond, she lets go and clenches her fists.

“Carla, don’t do anything rash-”

“You!” She stalks towards the downed Warlock, whose breathing has become labored. He’s barely clinging onto the last scraps of life, and she’s going to tear those pieces from his dying hands. “What the _fuck_ did you do to him?”

* * *

Lenny has no idea what’s going on. Where is he? What is he doing here? There’s something wooden with strings in his hands. What is it for? Why does he have it? He sets it aside, confused. Everything is confusing right now.

There’s a woman, and he doesn’t know her name. But she’s a friend, he knows that. She’s dear to him and she’s scared. Two other people that he knows and who are his friends, but they don’t matter quite so much.

The woman is furious, she’s angry, but he’s not scared of her. When the person she’s punching to death stops moving, it’s safe enough to walk over to her. There’s blood on her hands, and that’s not good. If she looked scared before, she looks wrecked now.

If he understood how to talk right now, he’d stutter something comforting. Since he can’t communicate that, though, he just wants to clean the blood off her hands. But he has nothing to do that with. He tries with his own hands, but that doesn’t work very well. Useless, he’s useless.

She sadly smiles and leads him over to a table where the other two people are. There’s a bowl on the table. Bowl. Water. There’s a backpack on his back, and when he takes it off and lets it drop to the floor, there’s a waterskin in the outside pocket. Water in the bowl can wash hands. He holds out the water-filled bowl. Nobody’s talking, just staring at him. She doesn’t seem to understand what he wants. He sets down the bowl and puts his own hands in, then takes them out and shows her. He holds out the bowl again.

Now she understands, and she dips her hands in. The blood washes away and settles in a swirl of red in the water. Her hands are clean. Good.

There’s a lot of talking after that. Noises that mean nothing to him and that drum against his brain. He sits next to her and she puts an arm around him. She is kind. She will protect him and make everything less confusing.

Her hair is pretty and long and it feels good in his hands. She doesn’t seem to mind, so he unties the piece of string holding her right braid together and puts his hands through it all, feeling it tangle around in his hands and stream through his fingers, coarse and long, down to her waist. It’s enough to drown in. He’d happily spend the rest of his days sitting next to her unbraiding her hair.

He falls asleep like this.

* * *

“I’m sorry,” Goris says for the fiftieth time in the last three hours. “If only I knew-”

Carla cuts him off, sounding tired. “I know. You don’t have to keep apologizing, Goris. I don’t know Greater Restoration either. Lenny just learned some new spells, so he might be able to cast it. But there’s nothing we can do until we get back to Redding.”

Unlike most victims of the devastating spell _Feeblemind,_ Lenny does not seem frightened. He has not ran from any of them, instead remaining relatively calm. However, he does not seem willing to move more than six inches from Carla’s side. The one time that she had briefly moved out of his sight, he had immediately burst into tears and was inconsolable until she returned.

It’s been seven hours of this, making it an excruciatingly long trip. But Redding is just around this bend in the road, and they’ve almost reached their destination. One problem stands in their way, though.

“He could wear my cloak,” Goris suggests. “If only one of us knew Disguise Self-”

“Don’t start with that again. Maybe they won’t mind. Nobody seems to mind me, and Orcs aren’t accepted in human villages most of the time.”

Carla gives him a look. “There’s a huge difference between you and him, Marcus. I don’t think anyone would appreciate an Undead walking around, even if he does work for the forces of Good. Your cloak idea will work for now, Goris.”

The group stops to rearrange themselves. Lenny takes a bit of coaxing before he’ll wear the cloak, as he seems to have no idea what it is or why it’s being put on him. But he relaxes when Carla murmurs some comforting nonsense. He doesn’t seem to understand anything they’ve said, but she still speaks as if he can.

“Perhaps we can pretend he is injured, to give an excuse for the cloak,” Goris suggests.

“Good idea.” Carla scoops Lenny up with one arm behind his back and the other under his knees. He yelps and clings to her neck. “Alright, you’re good, Len, calm down. Let’s go. I can’t carry him forever.”

The townspeople of Redding look suspicious of them when they approach with Lenny all covered up, but Goris fields their questions with an explanation that Lenny is injured and ill, and the cloak is to keep him warm. All of the noise and talking is not to Lenny’s liking, apparently, as he immediately buries his face into Carla’s armor and stays like that until they reach “Painless” Doc Johnson’s hospital. The humble building serves as a combination pantheistic shrine and healing establishment.

“Greater Restoration?” Doc Johnson asks. A retired cleric who stays at home researching cures for illnesses instead of adventuring, he personally attends to the patients that arrive at his door. “That’s serious. Here, it’ll only take a second.”

A soft glow emanates from his hands and surrounds Lenny before sinking into his skin.

Lenny sits up with a gasp, his eyes clearing. “Wh-what’s going on-”

“Ssh,” Carla enfolds him in a hug. “Thank the heavens that worked. We were so worried about you, Len.” She squeezes him tight. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not great at determining D&D levels, but this would be a good way through their adventure, so I have all of them at about level 10, so Lenny and Goris only know two fifth-level spells each. Lenny specializes in healing, so he'd go with Greater Restoration and Mass Cure Wounds, while Goris specializes in knowledge and divination, so he'd know Flame Strike and Scrying.  
> Bards know a lot of spells, holy crap! Clerics aren't half bad either, but Paladins have a really narrow range of spellcasting abilities. Marcus knows absolutely no magic and is absolutely fine with that.


	3. Marcus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Detect Magic: 1st level divination
> 
> For the duration, you sense the presence of magic within 30 feet of you. If you sense magic in this way, you can use your action to see a faint aura around any visible creature or object in the area that bears magic, and you learn its school of magic, if any.

It only takes a slight adjustment in Marcus’ path for him to throw himself in the way of the spell.

Goris sees it hit the Orc’s broad chest, and sees him pause before continuing his attack. The telltale signs of an approaching rage grow until Marcus is swinging at the warlock over and over again with a furious roar tearing up his throat.

He’s not stopping.

“Marcus,” Goris calls out. Carla and Lenny have backed up as far as they dare, their eyes averted from the grisly scene. “Marcus, stop.”

The warlock is long dead. In another minute, he will be unrecognizable. Marcus doesn’t seem to have heard him.

“L-Let me try something.” Lenny focuses on Marcus and plucks out a calming song on his lyre, humming along to the tune, the thrum of magic laced in every note of his music. Marcus turns at this, his face contorted in a snarl and his greataxe still held at the ready. Lenny reaches the end of the song, voice shaking badly and half-hiding behind Carla.

Marcus shakes off the calming spell and turns back towards the pile of flesh and blood that used to be the warlock.

“Sorry!” Lenny squeaks, wincing as Marcus growls and raises his greataxe. “I t-tried!”

“Let me try something.” Goris takes a deep breath and focuses on the magic flowing through his body. “Marcus. _Halt.”_

Marcus’ shoulders stiffen. He stops moving.

_“Approach.”_

He does. His eyes are blank. He says nothing. Goris swallows hard and nervously swishes his tail through the dust of the cave floor. He dispels the Command spell he had cast. Marcus does nothing. He’s injured from the fight, a few shallow cuts on his arm, but he doesn’t react to the pain.

“Marcus?” Carla approaches, her shield still held at the ready. “Are you alright? What happened? I’ve never known you to not be able to get out of a rage.”

More silence. If Goris’ scales behaved like human hair, they all would be standing on edge. “I do not know what is happening, Carla, but perhaps a Detect Magic would be in order.”

“Good idea.” If Goris casts magic like a scholar, Carla casts it like a farmer sowing seeds, or like a harvester with a deadly scythe. Her goddess normally reigns over the people of the earth, and rarely over warriors, but she’s made it work. “Whatever it is, it’s powerful. Enchantment.”

“Oh.” Goris has heard of this spell, though he’s never seen it in action. “Feeblemind.” He steels himself (a pun he should remember for later) and touches Marcus’ arm. The Orc looks down at him with blank eyes. “Lenny, do you happen to know Greater Restoration?”

* * *

Marcus does not enjoy the confusion clouding his mind. A fog of rage and a desire to protect his friends against this evil that has wronged them. It’s mindless, dangerous.

A note of flute music worms its way through the cloud and into his brain, then another. The notes are sweet and smoothly flow into each other until Marcus can discern a melody. That melody reaches into his head and pulls his personality and intellect back out from where they had fled. It softens the stiffness in his shoulders and eases the pain in his bruised and bleeding arms.

As the last notes of the song come to a close, Marcus looks down at his blood-soaked body and realizes that he has just done something horrible. Carla and Lenny are standing too far away from him, and Carla has her shield out, as if to protect Lenny. From him.

Lenny was the one playing the music. “Did it w-work?” He asks, lowering the flute from his lips.

“Did what work?” Marcus asks. “What happened?”

“You were under the influence of a very powerful spell,” Goris explains, the Dragonborn’s scaly tail swishing around slowly on the floor, kicking up dust. “Luckily, Lenny learned Greater Restoration last week, and it worked on the first try. Are you back to normal now?”

“Yes. I feel normal.” Marcus frowns. “Did I hurt anyone?”

Carla raises one shoulder in a half shrug. “Not anyone that didn’t deserve it.” She waves to the cave behind him, and the large pile of carnage there.

“Oh.” Marcus winces. “Oh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually rolled a die to see if Lenny could cast Calm Emotions, and Marcus rolled a goddamn 19 on his saving throw. Since Enchantment spells are super based on Charisma, they would not be Lenny's strong suit, and he only has a 9 (that's so terrible!) as his Spell Save DC, while Carla has a 12. 
> 
> Everyone and their brother draws their Dragonborn characters with tails, but according to the official descriptions, they don't have tails. And if I'm wrong and they do, then they just don't in this universe. It's my canon now, folks. Also, Steel dragons (and Dragonborn) are described as particularly catlike, so Goris has a catlike tail.


	4. Goris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charm Person: 1st level enchantment  
> Duration: 1 hour
> 
> You attempt to charm a humanoid you can see within range. It must make a Wisdom saving throw, and does so with advantage if you or your companions are fighting it. If it fails the saving throw, it is charmed by you until the spell ends or until you or your companions do anything harmful to it. The charmed creature regards you as a friendly acquaintance. When the spell ends, the creature knows it was charmed by you.

Lenny sees the bolt of dark energy shooting towards him and Carla. He barely has time to shout a panicked warning before Goris jumps in front of them and tackles them to the ground.

They hit the ground hard. Goris is heavy, and his metallic scales have sharp edges. Carla yelps and Goris lets out a pained grunt. When they roll to a stop, he sits up and holds his head. Lenny is so concerned about the giant bruise forming on Carla’s knee, it takes him a couple of seconds to realize that Goris is not alright.

“Goris?” Marcus asks, lowering his greataxe. “Are you injured, friend?”

Goris does not respond. His cat-like red eyes are blank. He looks up at Carla holding her leg, and his eyes narrow before his gaze drifts up to the wounded warlock, who has raised his wand, preparing another attack.

They have a moment of warning where Goris leans forward and unnaturally roars, steam rising from his nostrils, before the cave almost comes down on them.

Lenny is aware of an immense shape curling around them, a flash of metal and claws. Goris, now a large steel dragon several stories high, spits a cloud of poisonous gas out of his maw that envelops and chokes out the warlock. He flaps his wings and pieces of the cave ceiling start falling off and crashing to the floor. This space was not meant to hold a full-size dragon, even a relatively young one like Goris.

“A d-dragon?” Lenny stammers, huddled under Carla’s shield to avoid the falling rock. Lenny has never seen a dragon before, and it is far more terrifying than the stories had told. And Goris? An actual dragon?

The warlock doesn’t stand a chance against a _dragon._ Once his body crumbles to ash, Goris turns his eyes down to them. The cave stops shaking.

Marcus peeks out from under a table. “Well, this is unexpected. Goris, are you still in there?”

The dragon peers down at him, then swings his head to look at Lenny. He lowers his massive head, which is taller than the humanoids. His eyes are still dull. Even to Lenny’s untrained eye, they look blank.

“C-Carla,” Lenny squeaks, then yelps as Goris lowers his snout to nudge at him. “C-Carla what’s he doing-” Goris nudges him harder and he stumbles and almost falls.

“Something’s wrong,” she whispers, staring up at Goris. “I’m not sure what, but let me do a Detect Magic on him.” She clutches her holy symbol and stares up at Goris. “He’s under a spell, but it’s not Polymorph or any other sort of transmutation or illusion. What we’re seeing is real. This is his true form.”

“What kind of spell is he under?” Marcus asks, cautiously crossing the room to stand with them, heeding Goris’ long spiky tail.

“Enchantment.”

Marcus’ lips curl back in a concerned snarl. “Goris, say something.” Goris says nothing. “Carla, Len, steel dragons are known for their power of eloquent speech. Something _is_ wrong here.”

* * *

Goris must hunt. He will hunt for himself and for his pack. He does not notice the chunks of ceiling he dislodges when he forces himself through the exit of the cave and into the desert. He wrinkles his snout. Where is he? What is he doing here in this inhospitable land?

At least there is prey. Plenty of monsters run amok in this land. He must hunt a lot. His friend-pack, his family-mates, need to be fed. The small one in particular is too small. The Orc is alright, but he must eat plenty to be able to protect the others. The human is feisty and has obviously been trying to care for the underfed one, but she lacks the stern touch of a dragon. They must eat. He must hunt.

He returns to the miserable hovel of a lair. This cave has but a speck of a hoard. It is not large enough for him, and it is inhospitable for his pack. Humans require softness and warmth, and Orcs require ample training areas and feasting areas. The underfed pack-mate is confusing, but he must surely require something better than what he has right now. This lair will not do.

His return startles his friends. He throws his successful kills to one side, then sweeps his small companions to the side with a gentle wing. Then, he starts to dig. More space. More comfortable. He fetches soft grass and lumps it in a corner for bedding. Books and other precious objects are arranged in a pile in the middle of the now bigger cave. They are a meager hoard, but they will suffice.

The others are frightened. They are hungry and they do not understand. Goris does not understand either, but he knows hunger.

Smoke hits his nostrils, and he sniffs. The Orc has started a fire to cook the food. An odd humanoid custom, but one that they insist upon. Their words are strange too. Goris cannot comprehend anything from their deft mouths. He has no way of telling them to eat more, to eat all that they can.

The underfed one stops eating. He is done eating, but he is not full. This is not acceptable.

* * *

“C-Carla, he’s doing it again-” Lenny tries to shy away from Goris, who curls his gigantic head around him. “Should we try casting Dispel Magic on him in case he’s charmed-” He’s cut off as Goris spears a cut of meat from the cooking fire with his claws, and shoves it into Lenny’s mouth. He chokes and bites off a piece before putting the rest on his wooden plate. Carla sympathetically rubs his back.

“Interesting.” Marcus comments, watching them from across the fire. “Even though his intelligence is diminished, he still is very protective. He seems to recognize us as friends.”

“I w-wish he’d be a little less p-protective,” Lenny admits, quickly taking another bite under Goris’ stern supervision. “I c-can’t really eat an-anymore.”

Carla glances up at Goris, then down at Lenny. “Pretend like you’re falling asleep,” she hisses. “If you’re asleep, you can’t eat. Start yawning. Now lean against me and close your eyes.”

With his eyes closed, Lenny becomes more aware of the gigantic dangerous dragon looming over him. He smells faintly of acid from his devastating poisonous attack. Goris pokes him with his snout, then snorts and finally leaves him alone. Lenny cracks his eyes open. “Am I s-safe?” He whispers.

“You’re good for now,” Carla responds. “Let me pick you up so it looks like you’re still sleeping. We’ll go over to the area I think he’s prepared for us.”

With the soft bedding under them, they fall asleep under the watchful eye of a dragon.

* * *

Marcus doesn’t know what to make of this odd situation. Having to share living quarters with a dragon who has coincidentally lost all ability to think or communicate intelligently is not how he expected this mission to end.

Said dragon is currently sharpening his claws on the stone floor. Lenny is still asleep, or pretending to be. Carla is awake and sitting with her jar of dirt and holy symbol in front of her, praying to her goddess. A faint green glow surrounds her.

After a short breakfast, they formulate a plan. It’s a very magic-heavy plan that Marcus frankly doesn’t completely understand.

“I tried Detect Magic yesterday, but maybe I should try Dispel Magic, to see if I can get rid of whatever’s going on,” Carla suggests. “If that doesn’t work, it might be a curse, and I can remove that too, but that’ll put me out of commission except for small stuff.”

“W-we’ve got nothing better to do. You sh-should try.”

Carla turns her attention up to the dragon looming over them. With a deep breath to steady herself, she presses her hands together, and starts glowing. The glow envelops her and moves to encircle Goris. The pale green light gets brighter, then it fades.

“It didn’t work.” Carla rubs her head. “Well, it did, I did cast it, but it didn’t do anything. Whatever is going on, it’s too powerful for me to just hand-wave away. Let me try as if it’s a curse, but I don’t think that’s going to work either.”

It doesn’t. Marcus has long since become bored with the endless spellcasting, and has started sharpening his axe. He finishes with that and moves onto Carla’s spear.

Now it’s Lenny’s turn to try. This will not go as smoothly as Carla’s attempts. Marcus has never met a bard who was so nervous about performing, and he never will again. Lenny is good at transforming the notes of his songs into healing spells, and not so proficient at anything else. If he wasn’t so likeable, Marcus would be annoyed at such incompetence. But just because his best doesn’t look like Marcus’ best doesn’t mean that he’s not trying.

And Lenny does try. He burns spell after spell.

A tuning fork struck against Goris’ scales, the discordant hum intensifying until it becomes a meaningless screech. An attempt at Identifying the spell affecting him: failed.

A lighter tuning fork tapped against Lenny’s palm, an attempt to read Goris’ thoughts: failed. Lenny is shaken, saying that his spell worked, but that he heard _nothing._

They think it could be a language problem, something blocking Goris’ ability to understand Common. They try every language they know, but none of them know Draconic. Lenny proposes a spell that he’s learned but never used that can teach someone language. He taps out a rhythm on the smaller scales of Goris’ arms (it needs physical touch, apparently), and hums a tune. It seems to work for a second before Lenny slumps in defeat.

“The spell a-affecting him bounced it b-back,” he says. “It’s as if h-he has lost all in-in-intelligence…” He looks up, horrified. “There might be something, a spell I’ve h-heard of once. Feeblemind.”

Whatever that spell is, it doesn’t sound good.

“It’s h-high level, but I can fix it w-with a Greater Restoration,” Lenny says, running over to his pack and pulling out his flute. “But I’ve n-never done this spell before-”

“But you know it.” Carla pats his shoulder. “Try, Len.”

He tries, but it’s shaky. And in this case, Marcus doesn’t begrudge Lenny’s nervousness, because Goris has finally taken notice of their efforts, and is staring down at them with his large draconic eyes. When the last notes of the song-spell fall, they wait with baited breath.

Nothing happens.

“I’m s-sorry-”

“Try again.” Marcus moves to Lenny’s other side and puts his hand on his shoulder too. “You have to try again if you can.”

He tries again, this time staring down at the floor. It’s steadier, but still not perfect. Though, for what Lenny can do with his music, it doesn’t always have to be. It’s the heart that counts, even Marcus can see that. And despite his shortcomings, Lenny has plenty of heart. This should work.

It doesn’t work.

“We’ll try again tomorrow,” Carla resolutely says, putting an arm around Lenny. “It might have to do with him being in this form. Dragons are incredibly resistant to magic.”

“I just w-wish that I c-could do something h-helpful for once.” Lenny buries his head in his knees. “Nothing’s w-w-working-”

This breakdown needs to stop right now. “Nothing I’m doing is working either,” Marcus argues. “Nothing Carla knows how to do has worked either. You’re the most useful person on this team right now, Lenny. Nobody else here can do the kind of difficult spellcasting that you can.” What they need right now is a distraction. “Let’s take a break from this. Do you want to practice fighting?”

He shrugs and lifts his head, rubbing the oddly scarred skin of his cheek. “Sure.”

Carla sits with Goris on his pile of hoarded items, watching them with keen eyes and prepared healing spells. Goris is eerily calm and still, his blank eyes watching them. Marcus takes care to use his duller hand axes, and double-checks that Lenny’s rarely-used daggers are in good condition. Months ago, Carla had threatened him when they had first started sparring, mistaking his gruff training style with bullying, and had made him promise never to maliciously hurt Lenny. He had no intention of that anyways: he may fight like a barbarian, but that doesn’t mean that he’s a monster.

They take up their positions in a cleared-out area of the cave, circling each other. Lenny still looks apathetic and down. He needs to be motivated.

This “motivation” comes in the form of an overhead swing with his hand axe. Lenny dodges to the side and half-heartedly swings with a dagger, easily blocked, though with a little more force than usual, causing him to stumble.

“Use your momentum,” Marcus coaches as he finds his footing again. “Use the opportunity to get behind your opponent. And don’t forget your second dagger. Your greatest weapon will be surprise.”

“A-Alright.”

They circle again. Behind Lenny, Goris starts fussing, flapping his wings and growling at them.

“No, Goris, it’s all good,” Carla hurries to reassure. “They’re just practicing- oh darn he can’t understand me, can he- they’re not really fighting.”

Goris settles down, but he is still watching them with as much concentration as the addled dragon can manage.

Distracted, Lenny glances behind him. A mistake that he can’t afford in a real battle. He yelps and ducks as Marcus swings, following it up with a punch to Lenny’s shoulder that he doesn’t see coming.

“Ow!” Lenny almost drops one of his daggers, but manages to save it and duck behind Marcus, dragging the blade across his shoulder. It doesn’t do much damage, but it leaves a nasty-looking scratch.

Marcus roars and swings down with all of his power. Lenny catches the edge of the axe between his knives with a loud crash of steel. It would be a stalemate if Marcus wasn’t far stronger. He slowly pushes Lenny back.

Something bright and quick darts in the corner of Marcus’ eye. He whirls and swings, but it’s nothing more than some dancing lanterns. Lenny takes the distraction and ducks away, rolling to his feet just out of reach.

“Clever.” Marcus hefts his axe. “You’re getting better at doing cantrips in battle. Now try a real spell.” He goes on the offensive, leaving Lenny no time to properly prepare a spell. He doesn’t have his instruments, so he’s going to have to improvise. Considering the recent failures of his spellcasting, Marcus isn’t sure he’s going to be able to pull anything off. But it’s worth a try. If Lenny can fire off more complicated spells while being physically attacked, it could save his life.

Lenny starts humming, but his concentration is broken when Marcus sweeps his legs out from under him. He lands hard on the stone floor and Marcus hears a bad-sounding crack. Lenny cries out in pain. Behind them, Carla gasps, but doesn’t interfere. Lenny is cradling his left shoulder, one of his daggers on the floor a few feet away, the other one still in his hand. Marcus doesn’t give him an opening to stand, swinging down, this time at Lenny’s legs.

He’s winded as Lenny, panicked, kicks him in the chest. There’s a drumming sound, a quiet clank of metal on stone. Marcus recovers and lifts his arm to swing again.

A fog settles over his brain. He tries to resist, confused, but it’s too strong. He lowers his arm. What is he doing, attacking his best friend that he’s ever had?

“Marcus?” Lenny quietly asks, breaking into a slow smile.

“Yeah?” Marcus sets down his weapon. He grins too. “What do you need, friend? Are you injured? Do you need help?

“Yes. P-Please pick me up and bring me to C-Carla, Marcus.”

Good idea. Healing. Carla can heal Lenny, who is injured, which is terrible. Marcus does not want Lenny to be in pain.

“Oh heavens, Len, you actually did it.” Carla looks wide-eyed between them. She puts her hand on Lenny’s shoulder and he sighs in relief. “Using your dagger on the floor as a sort of drum, that was a really good idea. And he was in the middle of attacking you, too. Will he really do anything you ask?”

“Yeah.” Lenny looks up at him. “Marcus, p-please make lunch.”

Lunch. Good idea. Great idea, even. Marcus starts a fire and cooks some of the leftover meat from last night, adding a few mushrooms from his pack and some herbs from Goris’.

“This is really good. You should cook more often, Marcus.” Carla scoops up the last of the mushrooms from her plate. “What else could we have him do?”

Lenny, best friend forever Lenny, gives her a look. “I’m not about to st-start taking advantage of him, C-Carla. Marcus, sharpen your h-hand axes. Do my daggers too, if you w-want.”

He sharpens them, because Lenny has very good ideas. Halfway through getting a nick out of Lenny’s second dagger, Marcus stops, the fog in his brain lifting. What is he doing?

“Len,” he growls, baring his tusks. “You Charmed me.”

“Yes…” Lenny hesitantly says. “You said to t-try a spell…”

Marcus breaks into a chuckle and goes back to sharpening the knife. “No, it was great.”

* * *

The next morning is cold and tense. Goris is pacing in the small space, agitated over something. His tail is whipping around and has already knocked over a table. They need him to get back down to his humanoid form so that Lenny can try his spell again. But he won’t respond to command-based spells, Carla explains, something about him not being able to understand such a complicated demand. Magic is complicated.

Taking the pan of breakfast food off the coals of the fire, Marcus has an idea. He puts water on to boil. Then, he opens the front compartment of Goris’ pack and carefully removes a few items: a teapot, an earthenware cup and saucer, and a small strong-smelling packet. There are a few other things in here that Marcus isn’t really sure how to use, things that he’s not sure are used for making tea. The items he does have seem delicate, tiny. The cup fits into the palm of his hand. Only the knowledge that these are sturdy travelling pieces give him the courage to actually try this.

Boil the water. Pour it into the teapot over a pinch of loose leaves from the packet of herbs. Goris is starting to pay attention to him now, sniffing curiously at the pot. Marcus forces himself to wait a few minutes before pouring the steaming tea into the cup on the table. Some leaves fall into the cup. Maybe one of the other things that Marcus didn’t use was supposed to strain the leaves. Oh well. Imperfection is the first step to success.

Goris tries to grab the cup, but fails with his massive claws. The gargantuan dragon looks confused, then, with not even a flash of light, shrinks down into his humanoid form. The effects of the Feeblemind spell are even more obvious now in the way that Goris looks, uncomprehending, at the cup, his normally sharp eyes dull.

“Here,” Marcus takes Goris’ scaly hands and puts them around the cup. “Drink. Careful, it’s hot.”

Goris looks up at him, then down at the cup.

The soft notes of flute music draws their attention. Lenny has wasted no time trying his spell again. This time, the undercurrent of magic is so powerful it makes Marcus’ tusks ache.

It works. Goris blinks, slowly at first then with speed. He looks around, then down at the cup in his hands.

“Marcus,” he admonishes, “why didn’t you strain the leaves out of this?”

“Frankly, Goris, I had no idea how.” Marcus wraps an arm around Goris’ shoulders. “Good to have you back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the Wikipedia article on Steel dragons: Steel dragons prefer human form to their own, so they're rarely seen in their natural forms. They routinely use their special abilities to infiltrate human society, typically masquerading as sages, scholars, wizards, and other intellectuals. Endlessly curious about the art, culture, history, and politics of civilized races, steel dragons live among humans and similar beings.
> 
> Carla's Jar of Dirt is a big ol' jar of Arroyo dirt that she uses to keep herself spiritually connected to her home. Her holy symbol is a Vault 13 amulet. 
> 
> Bard casting is kind of weird in D&D 5e, because you need instruments as foci for casting, but it never really says you have to play them, but it also says that bard magic comes from performance? So I guess it's music/performance-related? Idk. The tuning fork idea(s) was based on the idea of a tuning fork as a solid base of reference for a note (Identify) and as a way to match pitches and therefore match mental frequencies (Detect Thoughts). Lenny had to improvise during sparring with Marcus, but I think improvised instruments would probably work, but be more difficult. He's okay at casting normally, but he has a really hard time doing a spell in the heat of battle, so part of their sparring practice also involves that.


	5. Carla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dancing Lights:   
> cantrip, evocation
> 
> You create up to four torch-sized lights within range, making them appear as torches, lanterns, or glowing orbs that hover in the air for the duration.

Carla sees the spell coming at her. Lenny tries to push her out of the way, but she holds firm and blocks him. There’s no way that she’s going to let one of her friends take the hit, not when she’s here to protect them.

The spell hits like an arrow to the head, aching and cold, and she feels something sapping away at her brain until all she feels is numb.

She’s in a…space. There are people here, friends. But there’s also danger. Bad guy. There is noise and pain and danger, and she needs to run. But she also needs to protect.

Carla grabs the arm of the closest friend, the one that she needs to protect, and sprints out of this place. It’s hot outside, but she runs. Must get to safety. Where is safe? Where is she?

Noise. Danger. Carla whirls, shield up. Small friend behind her, protected. He’s making noise, but she doesn’t understand. Why can’t he talk so she can understand? Noise wasn’t danger. Noise was more friends. They’re upset, they’re scared, they’re looking at her and moving their mouths and she just _doesn’t understand-_

Stick to what she knows. Must protect. Must get to safety. Here is not safe. Where is safe?

A cave. Was that where she just came from? Her head hurts. She looks inside. No more enemies. Cave is safe. She goes in and the others follow. Double-check that it is safe. Big friend looks at her eyes and waves a hand in front of them. She doesn’t know what this means. Other big friend, snake-friend, is also looking at her. He touches her arm and shakes it. She touches his arm, but it feels weird. She taps it. It is hard and weird, like stone.

Snake-friend sighs. He waves a hand and the air shimmers. Carla touches it. It feels shimmery. He sighs again, then looks over at small-friend. He is very friendly, though kind of scary-looking. But he’s a true friend. A friend-friend.

Friend-friend whistles and a few little lanterns appear in the air. They are glowing. Wow! Amazing! Carla touches one and her hand goes through it. They move around her in a circle. Magic-friend-friend is talking with Big friend, then Snake-friend, but he keeps the lanterns moving around. Amazing!

The lanterns stop, which is sad. But then friend-friend is standing in front of her again, and he has something in his hands. Then he starts playing music. Music! It’s pretty and it finds its way into the cracks in her brain, filling in all of the spots that were missing.

She blinks and Lenny stops playing his flute, looking up at her. Oh. For a minute there, she had really forgotten about the existence of magic and how the entire world worked.

“Good work, Len,” she says. “It’s good to be back.”

**Author's Note:**

> So heavily inspired by [Feeblemind,](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13188000/chapters/30166278) a TAZ fic about the spell Feeblemind. 
> 
> The team:  
> Carla is a human Paladin, protection fighter.  
> Lenny is a Deathless (see [this](http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?378396-The-Book-of-the-\(Not-So\)-Dead-Undead-Options-for-5e-PCs-\(PEACH\)) Homebrew race) Bard who is pretty decent at healing and not much else.  
> Goris is a Dragonborn (or is he?) cleric serving the Dragon God Bahamut in the Knowledge Domain.   
> Marcus is an Orc Barbarian, and also the mayor of a town!
> 
> I will probably do more fics with this AU, but have this one for now!


End file.
